Blame
by obsessed1
Summary: Simple. Blame. Sheppard H/C with a little bit of Teyla. Not Shippy. Friendship fic.


Title: Blame

Author: Obsessed1  
Character(s): John and Teyla. NOT ship; just friendship.  
Genre(s): Stargate Atlantis: H/C -Angst  
Rating: T  
Warnings: Nothing too explicit.  
Summary: Blame is easily assigned. Lots of Shep and Teyla angst.

A/N – I can't stop writing one shots at the moment. Here's another one. If you enjoy, please review. I'd love some feedback.

If she closed her eyes, she could still see them burned into the back of her eyelids.

"Teyla?"

Doctor Keller's hand gently touching her arm pulled her back to reality. She blinked, too slowly, and acknowledged her with a tilt of her head.

"I'm just going to take your blood pressure…..okay?"

She nodded dumbly and watched as the cuff was slipped over her wrist. It was uncomfortable against skin that felt taut from excessive heat.

The heat. She'd never felt anything like it before, could still taste the acrid smoke; worst of all, she could still hear them screaming. There had been children. Their cries had torn through the night, been cut off by another explosion. The debris that had rained down on them, the ash in the air, it had been mesmerizing. She felt the pang of misplaced guilt; but there was nothing any of them could have done.

"Teyla?"

Colonel Carter perched on the edge of the infirmary bed and placed delicate fingers onto her bare shoulder.

"Colonel," her voice sounded thick and raw.

She realised that Ronon and McKay were sitting silently on the bed's next to hers, both seemingly lost in thought, undergoing the same post mission check ups. She met McKay's eyes and he offered her a weak smile.

"I know you're all….." Carter cut herself off mid-sentence and the started again, "What _happened_ out there?"

MX495. Teyla would never forget that combination of letters and numbers.

She steeled herself and painted on a mask of neutrality before saying, "The attack took us….._them_," she amended, "…off-guard. They had planted the bomb in a hospital."

"Why would they…." McKay cut in, "Why would they do that? I'm…I'm _fine_."

One of the nurses was trying to offer him some comfort but his haunted look made her step back.

"It…." Teyla's voice wavered. She stopped talking and swallowed thickly.

"Take your time."

"It decimated half of the building, the other half……there was a fire, Colonel. We tried to help those that were trapped but there was no way in."

They'd had to watch those people burn.

"Chancellor Sonal told us that there had been many attempts on his city. Attempts to overthrow his government. The strike was anticipated but they didn't have enough resources to search every-"

She closed her eyes; remembering the faces at the windows, the ones that tried to 'jump' to safety, the women throwing their children down in an effort to protect their little lives.

"As I said,…" she repeated, "-there was nothing we could do, short of….. dying ourselves." And she would have; if Sheppard had let her. If Ronon hadn't pulled her back. If Mckay hadn't fixed her with a terrified look.

Carter squeezed her shoulder gently, "You should get some rest. It sounds like you did everything you could under the circumstances." She looked to the others, "Take as much time as you need."

"Thank you Colonel."

Doctor Keller, who hadn't intruded on their conversation, suddenly stepped up to her and handed over two white pills.

"To help you sleep."

Teyla closed her hand, clutched them like her life depended on it.

"Can we go?" McKay asked, swinging his legs around to the floor, "I have…..important work to do…can't be sitting around here all day."

Teyla knew that it was his way. His _coping_ mechanism. He'd throw himself into his work. Ronon would undoubtedly take his aggression out in the Gym. It wasn't a bad idea.

"Yes, you all check out fine. There are no signs of smoke inhalation, but if any of you feel unwell I want you right back here," Keller said, checking her watch, "How long did Colonel Sheppard say he'd be?"

Teyla had noted his prolonged absence. Post mission check ups were non-negotiable and Sheppard knew better than to take this long.

She remembered him saying something about dropping his weapons off at the armoury first. He obviously needed time to collect himself. She was getting worried. He had been quiet on the way back to the gate, didn't seem to be listening and used the first chance he could to slip away.

"He wanted to check his weapons into the armoury."

Keller scowled, "I'll give him a few more minutes."

"Am I able to leave?"

"Of course, Teyla."

"Then I shall find John and bring him back here. I am sure he simply lost track of time."

She slipped off the infirmary bed and noted the queasy sensation in her stomach.

"Are you okay?"

Teyla turned to McKay. She hadn't even realised her two team-mates were beside her.

"I suspect you know that I am not," she said giving him a fleeting look before leaving.

Sheppard had never arrived at the armoury. Worry warring with a little anger at Sheppard evading his post mission check up, she went to his quarters.

He didn't answer.

Despite wanting to hide away herself, she entered his room, half apologising as she stepped over the threshold. The room was dark but she could still make out enough to see that his P90 was abandoned on the bed.

"John?" she called out cautiously.

She noted the slit of light coming under the door to the bathroom. As she got closer, she could hear water running.

"John?" she knocked hard enough for him to hear over the water, "John, you missed your post-mission check-up."

There was no answer. No sounds of a person in the midst of washing. She looked down at the floor and realised that it was soaked through and water was rushing out at her feet.

"John?" she knocked again, more impatiently this time, "Can you hear me?"

When she heard nothing, she apologised to whatever gods were looking down on her, and then opened the door.

Steam assaulted her instantly. Water was pooling around her boots.

"John?"

She was beginning to feel guilty; expecting to find Sheppard naked and preparing to apologise, when he spotted him.

Her heart sank.

He was in the shower cubicle, fully clothed, water cascading down onto him where he sat. His knees were up to his chest, his hands were up in his armpits and he was shivering, despite the scalding water. He didn't look at her; didn't say a word.

"John…" she switched the water off and knelt in front of him, "John…."

He was shaking. Teeth chattering, shoulders tensing as shivers wracked his body. Teyla removed a dry towel from the shelf next to her and set about wiping down his face, rubbing it through his hair.

"We need to get you out of here."

Sheppard resisted her attempts to move him.

She recognised the signs immediately.

"John, you are in shock. We need to get you warmed up."

He ignored her; dropped his head onto his knees and continued to shiver violently.

John Sheppard was a man who worked hard at concealing his emotions. She had become adept at watching him, recognising signs of stress, knowing when he was overcompensating. He would tell her he slept fine but she would see from the dark circles under his eyes that he was lying. He always told them they should never assign blame if a mission went wrong, but she knew he _always_ took it personally. She knew he twisted himself up late at night over the things he had failed to prevent. In a way; she had known this was coming. Especially today….especially after……

"There was nothing you could do…" she started, her own hands trembling.

He heaved in a deep breath. If it was a sob she couldn't tell. Logic told her Sheppard didn't ever cry.

"I saw………I saw that there was nothing….." she paused and felt sick, her treacherous body fighting against her.

She wasn't nearly as strong as she led people to believe. She suspected it was the reason she and Sheppard had a bond. They were very alike; not that he'd admit it. She knew he didn't sleep well at night…..because _she_ didn't either.

He lifted his head, water dripping into his eyes and he trembled, "Cold….."

Teyla reached for his hands, pulling them towards her. She rubbed up and down his forearms, feeling the way the skin was goose bumped, the way he tried to pull away.

"I'll never forgive myself……" he said suddenly, teeth chattering, "Never…"

He stared at somewhere behind her; but his eyes were unseeing. She recognised a flashback when she saw one.

"There was nothing you could do."

Sheppard pulled his hands back and wrapped them around himself, "I told her to…." He swallowed repeatedly, "I told her I'd catch her……."

Teyla silently checked him over as he sat there. Even though he's hadn't showered to clean himself, he'd managed to wash most of the dirt and grime off him. There were no discernable bruises on his face; his arms, his hands were cut but not badly. She noted that there was some blood in the canal of his right ear, but she suspected it was from being in close proximity of the initial explosion.

"John, does your ear hurt?"

He looked at her.

"Your ear?" she indicated.

He shrugged, "Doesn't hurt. Can't hear well out of it," he flinched, "It's freezing."

"Let me help you up…out of these clothes." She tugged on his arm, "John?"

"Is _that_……is that a…proposition?"

She smiled fondly.

"I'm fine. I'm…._fine_."

"You are anything but on. _Please_."

He allowed himself to be moved, staggering like a drunk over to a little bench in his washroom. As soon as he was sat down, he curled back into himself, crossed his arms and leaned forwards.

Teyla carefully towelled off his hair, mindful of his bad ear, and then set about drying off his arms and his face. He endured it without complaint. He was too quiet and she knew he was reliving their mission; trying to blame himself for a series of events that were out of his control.

The tac vest was easy. He'd already unclipped it. It was just a matter of sliding it off. It felt heavier than usual; the smell of smoke permeated the thick fabric.

"I'm going to unbutton your shirt," she said, kneeling in front of him, "We'll get you into some dry clothes and then we'll go to the infirmary."

No protestation. No affirmation of his good health. _Nothing_. His gaze was vacant.

She left him for a second, retrieved his sweats and a jumper, and then resumed removing his shirt. She uncrossed his arms before removing it and as soon as the wet shirt was dumped onto the floor he crossed them again. She draped the towel over his shoulders while she untied his boots.

"C-c-cold," he said pulling the towel around him, "Someone's turned the damn heating off."

The washroom was boiling hot, stifling even. The steam hung over them like a fog. Like _smoke_. Teyla bit her lip.

Suddenly, Sheppard was reaching forward, grasping her wrist between shaking fingers and saying, "You believe me right?"

She swallowed down the lump in her throat.

"John," she said, pulling his boot off and cradling it in her lap, "…you tried. We all tried…..there was nothing to be done."

He looked far more lucid than he had done. He pulled the towel from around his shoulders and tossed it across the room, "But you didn't………….I didn't catch her…" he said, looking a little green.

Teyla removed his other boot and passed him his clothes, "Put these on. I'll wait outside."

She practically ran out of that washroom; closed the door behind her and dropped onto Sheppard's bed as if her muscles had lost all tone. The sob that escaped was muted into her hands. She'd seen it happen and it was as if time had slowed in that one instant.

The woman in the building had been terrified, leaning out of the window as far as she could to get some clean air. Sheppard had shouted up to her, told her to get low on the floor, but she hadn't believed that would help. He'd tried to get into the building at one point and McKay and Ronon had been forced to restrain him. She'd had the same impulse. Tried once or twice herself with the same resolution.

The woman had a baby. Sheppard promised to catch her. She hadn't wanted to part from the newborn but Sheppard had _promised….._Teyla's maternal instincts had made her feel sick at the moment the woman let go. Sheppard had his hand's outstretched, he would have caught her, but there was another explosion that tossed him aside.

Teyla had shouted to him, but he hadn't heard her. The partial deafness made sense now. He'd been showered with debris and the baby………

She felt a tear roll down her cheek, she swiped at it angrily.

From the bathroom, she thought she heard Sheppard retching.

"Are you okay John?" she forced composure into her voice.

The toilet flushed. The water ran. "Yeah……" the wavering voice replied. "I'll be out in a minute."

There was nothing she or Sheppard could have done. It was poor timing. A set of unavoidable circumstances. Later, that woman had died and Teyla thought that it was some small consolation that she wouldn't have to live with her child's death.

The washroom door swished open and Sheppard leaned against the doorframe, looking fragile where he stood.

He crossed the bedroom quietly, hands pulled into his sweater.

"I'm sorry," he said, "If I worried you. I'm feeling…._better_."

He was lying.

He listed to the side and she caught him before he could fall, "Balance is…….screwed up," he said, reaching up to his ear.

"We should get you to the infirmary John."

He nodded.

As they walked towards the door, he crossed his arms again, teeth still chattering, body still trembling and Teyla stayed close, fearing she hadn't seen the last of his breakdown.

"You know…" and he looked down at his feet, "……you're not to blame either."

Teyla had to look away to stop from letting her last defences slip. She took in a deep breath, convinced there was smoke on the air, and pushed him on.

Assigning blame was always easy. It was the living with it that was the hard part.

The end


End file.
